Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

When I danced like a fool
on South Padre Island of the Mind
it was raining, as I recall
the coast was weeping
there was tangible lonliness
the cracked suspicion
that you would never see the sun again
and your hopes wash up on the beach
like jellyfish abandoned little clowns
exploding in rapture at the
foolishness of life.

the rasp of Saturdays
shriveled and puffed from the night before
the olive still has vinegar
even when the martini is drained
and the fruits are beached
and ravished by oxygen
fools and organisms
living on tubes
and prayers

tubes won't save the Pope
and Janis is in heaven without a liver
when you ain't got nothin' you got nothin'
to lose in a head on collision but
your transplanted air bags
and the delicate suspension of life
on its gymbals some
gyroscopic balance
that requires no wires
and the illusion
is right before your eyes
an elephant, a fool or a gorilla
eight hundred pounds in your living room

Heavy duty writing.



My 800 pound gorilla was sitting in my mail box when I opened it today. It came in the form of a letter from the senior housing office. asking the residents not to flush their diapers down the toilet.

ouch. great writing & much to ponder